I somehow caught a bug over the weekend and spend the whole day on Sunday sleeping. It is Monday and I am still feeling under the weather. I wouldn’t say I am sick, I can still function, well if you call crawling out of bed and forcing my ass to work so I can sit there and stare dazed at the computer screen functioning! But I NEVER EVER get sick! So even being a little sick is weird for me. I woke up on Sunday with a sore throat and a mild headache. I felt really dazed like I had a cloud over my head and I was really really tired. I still feel tired today even though I slept for almost 48 hours straight! Bleh…I hate feeling tired.

Anyways, I am off to Thailand for the entire month of January and I am super excited! I can’t wait! But before I leave one of my goals is to finish my story of how I developed and overcame bulimia. I still have so much to tell you so this holiday season my blog is going to be a lot about life with as much holiday cooking as I can manage to squeeze in!

If you want to read my life story from the beginning go to the About Me page.

The Summer I moved in with my mom was the Summer before I started my first year in high school. That summer we moved to Danville, CA and I started a new life there. I was in a new town, going to a new school, and I had to make all new friends. My dad would not talk to me that first year and he would not let me talk to any of my brothers or sisters. That hurt really really bad, but I felt like I deserved it. I remember my first conversation with my father after moving in with my mom was on my birthday, almost 10 months after I left. He called me to accuse me of stealing my step-mom’s diamond earrings. OUCH! The second time I spoke to him he called to apologize because they had found them. Eventually, my dad and his family started having a relationship with me again, but it was never the same. I have never felt like my father's family is my family. I have never felt like my father's home is my home. I have always felt like an outsider. My dad keeps telling my it is my fault, it is my choice, and I agree. I just do not know how to change how I feel.

When I decided to live with my mom, my dad told me I would be a failure. He told me I would never make anything of my life. So I worked extra hard in high school. I got great grades, took all honor classes, and participated in sports and extra curricular activities. My four years of high school were the best of my life. I was finally living with my mom and she was finally being the mom I so desperately needed. I loved Danville, I loved my friends there, and I loved my freedom. I really grew up during those four years.

I got my first puppy in high school. I absolutely love love love dogs and I have always wanted a puppy. At my dad’s house we were never allowed pets because my step-mom, step-brother, and step-sister were allergic. It was the first time in my life I had something of my own to raise and take care of and I absolutely loved every second of it. I spent hours reading about puppy training, I took my puppy to training classes, and spent countless afternoons in the front lawn teach my puppy every trick I could think of.

I have always been a strong person in a lot of ways. But one strength I seriously lacked was self esteem. I never thought badly of myself, I just never thought anything good either. As far back as I can remember I have always thought of something on my body that I hated or that I wanted to change. When I was really little it was my thighs, they rubbed together. As I got a bit older it was my tanned skin. I was very dark and I hated it because all my friends were pale white. Once I hit puberty it was my large boobs because I was one of the first girls in my class to get boobs and all the boys stared. Looking back most people would have killed for these problems but I didn’t see it that way at the time. I think I craved affection and love and made up for the lack of them by seeking the attention of boys.

It has always been easy for me to get boys to fall in love with me. I never understood why. Even as young as 5 I had little boys running after me. In high school, my desire to be wanted by boys became a little obsessive. I had sex when I was 14, with a boy that lived down the street from me. I didn’t want to but we were alone, and he was being so loving and wanting. I regretted it afterward and even told my mom. I was devastated. After that I waited until I was with what would be my only long term boyfriend in high school. In my Junior year of high school, four months after we started dating we had sex… a lot of sex…whenever we could. And we weren’t very careful about it. I got pregnant at 16 and had an abortion. It was devastating…and ruined my relationship with him. I knew as soon as I found out I was pregnant that I had to get an abortion. I had no other choice, I was too young, had too much to do in life, and simply wasn’t ready. But it didn’t make it any easier. I longed for a baby for years after that and every time I saw someone pregnant or with a baby I thought of what my life would have been like if I had made the other choice and kept the baby. To this day I know I made the right choice, but I also know I could never make that choice again.

Although my life with my mom during high school was far from perfect, it was still the best time of my life. I loved living with her, I loved the town I lived in, I loved my school and my friends. I know making the decision to leave my dad’s house and move into my mom’s house was the right decision for me, and I will never regret it. I just wish it had not totally ripped my family apart in the process.

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5 comments:

Oh, my dear - I've just read all of the installments and my heart breaks for you in so many ways. I too have struggled with an eating disorder - and my blog has been key to my recovery, like you. I had a very painful childhood, which was really the foundation for all the pain to come in my adult years. Hugs to you. And, congrats on fighting for your recovery.

You certainly have come a long way in life - and good for you for empowering yourself and taking control of your life and doing what's best for you.

Writing is very therapeutic - keep it up, maybe it will help overcome your eating disorder. After all, admitting the problem is the first step to recovery. I wish you only the best - you certainly deserve it.